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My friend and fellow Moms of Hue author Traci Lee launched her new resource for African-American young women called BabyGirlz Magazine. I was honored to be able to interview her about her motivation to create the site and her plans for the future.  Our conversation follows.

Moms of Hue (MOH): Tell me about Traci. Who are you and what moves you?

Traci Lee: What moves me is having a voice. I love to speak on matters of importance. Sometimes I talk too much, but if I can touch one person, I am satisfied. Motherhood moves me. I love being my son’s mother. I still look at him, 12 years later in amazement that he came from me. I am also a person that looks at things from a metaphorical standpoint. For instance, when a person puts their blinker on to switch lanes and the driver behind them is driving at a normal pace he/she will speed up to prevent it. Similarly, in life, when people realize you are trying to move toward a greater goal, they will try to prevent that from happening – to the point that we may not even be aware of their behind-the-scenes actions. So, when I am prepared to make BIG moves, I feel passionate about keeping that to myself because not everyone is going to be happy for me as I begin the journey.

MOH: I understand. Sometimes people become so angry when they realize that you have the potential to shine. It’s sad. I have learned that there are very few people with whom you can share things.  So What inspired you to create BabyGirlz Magazine?

Traci: This has been my wish since 2003. One day, while in my Psychology class the instructor asked us to “freewrite”, meaning to basically write off the top of our heads whatever is on the mind. At the time, I felt it was meaningless, and had already made up my mind that I would not comply with the assignment. I mean what for? Well, I began looking around and upon seeing everyone else in class writing, I decided to just jot anything down. I began writing about how I thought “the assignment was stupid” and “what could I possibly have to write about off the top of my head?” and how “people are always expecting the impossible”. The weirdest thing happened. I found myself writing about my childhood and how I didn’t ever really feel I fit in any one place. How oftentimes, I felt like an outsider in my own family. How I wished my mother had left my stepfather long before she did. Before long, I was out my seat and in the hallway crying. Long-buried memories had come to the surface. Memories that I didn’t realize had such an impact on the person I’d become. It made me realize that there was a huge void where guidance should have been when I was growing up and it made me think about all the girls that were in that same position may be in need of that from someone – anyone. BabyGirlz originally began as my own therapy, in the form of a journal. It soon built out to an entire area of life that I felt I could have been mentored in growing up. I decided to offer myself up as a mentor to any young woman in need.

MOH: I never fit in either. I was a geek! Still am. I also felt very isolated as a child- like no one was there to help or to guide me. I had issues with my mother too and much like you writing allowed me to realize a lot of them. It’s funny how that happens.

So, what challenges facing African-American girls do you believe need to be addressed the most?

Traci: Most challenging I would say is the hurdle some of us face with realizing who we are and what we are capable of achieving. The need to be accepted is so great with us sometimes, that we ignore ourselves, all in an effort to please others. We become lost in the process, and silenced because of it. The person with no voice, has no path. As African-American women, we carry a lot, in youth, adolescence, and in adulthood, and it leaves us trying to repair our self-esteem a lot. It leaves us making patterns of entering unhealthy relationships – intimate or otherwise.

MOH: So true. Voice is so important. The lack of voice is really what inspired Moms of Hue. You speak a lot about metamorphosis and butterflies on BabyGirlz. Why the butterfly?

Traci: I’ve always loved butterflies. I am heavily into symbolism and what I’ve read about butterflies is that they represent metamorphosis. I relate metamorphosis to that point in life where we reach self-actualization. That place where we have the ultimate happiness. The butterfly goes through many stages before they make it to the point where they can take flight. So, like the butterfly, so does the young girl on her path to becoming a woman. I thought the butterfly would symbolize that perfectly.

MOH: There seems to be a lot of tension between African-American men and women. As a mom of an African-American boy what do you want him to learn in terms of his interaction with girls of color?

Traci: I talk frequently, with my son about girls. Fortunately, for me, he is not at the point where he likes them (or so he says), so the conversations haven’t been that lengthy. I’ll be honest and say that when I do discuss ‘relationships’ with him, I emphasize how important respect is – both giving and receiving. I try to teach him how to identify those who respect him and those who don’t. I think that type of dialog is transferable and can be utilized in all his dealings. I tell him to choose the people in his circle carefully. It’s the best I can do at this point in time because I want him to know that the same rules apply, across the board.

MOH: Any plans for starting a resource for young boys?

Traci: Oh yes! I am already thinking about it. I would like to engage in something that focuses, primarily, on education. Definitely education. I feel that there is much that goes on behind the scenes in the public school system that many parents are unaware of and our boys fall by the wayside because of it. If you are not a parent who is invested in your child’s academic career, it will surely be missed – and too late to come back from. I would also like to incorporate something that gets them thinking in terms of what they want to be when they grow up, how to identify their strengths, and get away from thinking that they need to be athletes or rappers to “make it”. I could go on forever, but that’s for another time/place. But yes, my brain is working overtime!

MOH: I was actually going to say that from previous conversations that you and I have had I know you are very passionate about education. Obviously that is the case. So. any plans to enter into that realm apart from the education section on BabyGirlz?

Traci: Oh yes. I want to get to a point where I can find people who are a part of the magazine to act as advocates for young women in areas of ill-treatment, effective communication with counselors/teachers, as well as how to complete their own education plan, and how to use all their qualities to find the degree program that works best for them. I plan to really expand on the education part of it because I feel it is the one thing no one can take from you. Also, when you are educated, you are controlling the way you think – and not the other way around. Better decisions are made, better lives are made, and happiness is a given.

{ 10 comments }

why?

There I was arguing with my eleven year old grandson about what shirt he was going to wear that day. The shirt he’d chosen had a spot on it that not even a spray of Shout  could get out. The shirt I wanted him to wear was spotless, not even a speckle of a stain to mar it.

“Why can’t I wear what I want to?,” my grandson asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

This was not the little boy that I used to pick out cute outfits for from The Children’s Place and like a cute miniature deep brown living mannequin would happily put on. Everything matched, was color coordinated, from socks to shoes and sometimes even his underwear. “Perfect,” I said to myself. “You are a handsome little guy,” I said each time we headed out the door. I loved taking him out and showing him off and listening to people comment about how adorable he looked. Now he’s even handsomer, but he has his own sense of style. He loves oversized shirts, jeans that sag a little bit too much to my liking, and the more distressed looking they are the better.

But on that day when I was arguing with him, I guess it wasn’t so much his wanting to wear something different that frustrated me. Since his birthday when he officially turned eleven, I noticed how the word “Why?” permeated his sentences whenever I asked him to do something. “Why do I have to drink milk here when I don’t drink it at home? Why do I have to go to bed if I’m not sleepy? Why…?”

On most days my patience was even and melodious. His “whys” ruffled no Black woman feathers and I just calmly explained my rationale for why I felt he needed to do something. But on that day I suddenly, maybe because it was a dreary day and my mood was off centered, did an about face. My children were not raised to question adults so why was I allowing my grandson to do so. As a child I also witnessed this cardinal rule never being broken in other black households. It was do as your elders tell you, no questions asked. Asking the question “Why” was the equivalent to sassing an adult or cursing on Sunday. So, on that day when my grandson asked me “Why” he had to wear the shirt I picked out, I met his “why” with the age old response reminiscent of my grandmother, mother and aunts and…yes, myself as a mother sans grandson. “Because I said so,” I said.

His big dark brown eyes looked as if they were about to fill with tears. I tried my best to avoid looking into them so I wouldn’t give in. “Trust that as the adult I have your best interest at heart. I wouldn’t ask you to do something if it wasn’t for your good,” I continued. “There’s nothing wrong with asking why if you want to find out some information such as uh…let me see…oh such as, why are certain imaginary patterns in  the sky called constellations or …well anyway I think you know what I’m trying to say.”

Those sad puppy dog eyes were unavoidable. It tugged at my heart. He grabbed the shirt I had chosen and slumped away. And then it hit me. I had done this before. I saw that same sorrowful slump twenty something years in my children when they were younger when I said “Because I said so” or “Do as I say, wear what I tell you to wear, etc.”

How I must have trampled on their diminutive spirits then, giving them crutches instead of wings that would help them become confident and independent thinkers. In my mind then I thought I was raising them suitably as I followed the familial advice of the women before me. Now, after much reflection, I realize that there were some things we as mother and grandmothers need to pack away in a treasure chest. They no longer are the sage gems we need to embrace and use to parent or grandparent our children and grandchildren if we don’t want to be the ones to clip their wings.

My grandson had a voice, as my granddaughters will when they too become of age, and trying to muffle their “Why’s” and override their choices when they were just different and not detrimental to anyone, would only impair our relationship and fill them with angst. Holding in my guilt tinged tears and called my grandson back into my room. There would be no mutiny over a shirt. I ironed his stained shirt and relinquished my need to have him do something because I said so. So what if others saw a stain on his shirt. That stain was nonentity when it came to the special young man he was then and who he was becoming.

“You know sometimes Grandma has a lot of lessons to learn even though she is sprouting a few grey hairs,” I said. My grandson smiled. I ironed the shirt with the stain on it and handed it to him. “You look fresh,” I said hoping it was the right word. He laughed this time. I welcomed it into the room and let it scent the air before laughing with him.

{ 4 comments }

A new season

by Michele Dortch February 4, 2010 Loving
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Yesterday I had a moment. I was doing something ordinary and practical. I was being proactive, trying to keep my work-life in order. It was a functional sort of day. No biggie. But really…it was HUGE and I didn’t understand that until after it was done. What did I do?

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